we get by (with a little help from our friends)
by The North Wyn
Summary: The one in which Fitzsimmons move into their first place and discuss the possibility of getting a pet, with the help of the team. "Help" may or not be slightly relative. And ot10 fic. Prompt received anonymously on Tumblr.


"I still say a monkey," Fitz says, nodding to the man holding the door open for him as he carries a box labeled OFFICE in Jemma's meticulous hand-writing. "My man Trip knows that's the only sensible choice, isn't that right?"

"Well, _my _man Trip knows that that is a horribly impractical idea. Isn't that right, Antoine?" Jemma asks around a box labeled LIVING ROOM in Fitz's atrocious hand-writing.

Trip throws up a hand, narrowly avoiding (most likely accidentally) hitting Lance in the face. "Hey! Don't bring me into this. I'm neutral. I'm Switzerland."

There is a moment of silence as both Fitz and Simmons get distracted by Trip's dazzling smile. The silence is broken when Skye bursts into the room and sets a box labeled DISHTOWELS, KITCHEN on the counter. "I love it! It's perfect!"

Lance sidesteps out of her way, keeping a secure hold on the box in his arms labeled KITCHEN. Judging by the rattling and crashing coming from inside it, it is not dishtowels, however. He sets it carefully on the counter and looks around the kitchen approvingly.

Skye sniffs. "Look at my babies, all grown up and moving in together. I'm going to cry!"

"Skye," Jemma sighs. "We're older than you."

"Doesn't matter," Skye flings her arms around the shoulders of Fitzsimmons. "You're still my babies. I'm so excited for you guys!"

Fitz grins. Jemma smiles in spite of herself. Before any further conversation can occur, the front door opens and Phil and Melinda come in, both carrying boxes.

"What about a puppy?" Coulson is saying to May as the two walk into the room. May gives him her patented May look. He sighs, defeated. Under his breath, he mutters, "Well, you said I couldn't ask them about grandchildren."

May rolls her eyes at him as they continue through the kitchen to deposit their boxes in the bedroom.

"Sooo," Lance asks dubiously, wrapping his arms around Skye's waist, leaning his head on her shoulder, and glancing over at Fitz and Simmons, "Are you two really going to get a pet?"

"We might," Fitz sniffs. He snakes an arm around Jemma's shoulders and turns his head to grin at her. "If I can talk Simmons into a monkey."

Simmons wrinkles her nose at him and turns to look out the window. "Where did the muscles get to?"

"Hey!" Protests Lance. "I have muscles, too, you know."

Everyone ignores him. (Skye eventually takes pity on his pouting and kisses him. Fitz clears his throat. Loudly.)

"Ah! There they are!" Jemma exclaims as a worn old blue pick-up truck laden down with a sofa, Mack, and Ward appears. (And Bobbi's truck is tiny as far as trucks go, so Jemma is left wondering how two men the size of Ward and Mack fit in it. Her question is answered a minute later when she watches Ward pry Mack out of the back seat.)

"Sorry we're late," Bobbi sing-songs as she nudges open the front door, arms full of sofa cushions. "The boys got us lost and refused to let me ask for directions. Ward even confiscated my phone."

She nods to Mack and Ward, following behind her, carrying a sofa between them.

"It was a matter of honor. Am I right, man?" Mack says, looking to Ward to back him up.

Ward nods solemnly.

"Whatever," Skye rolls her eyes. "All you've missed is Fitz and Simmons trying to decide what pet to get."

"You're going to get a pet?" Bobbi asks, chucking the sofa cushions one at a time the general direction of Ward and Mack, who have just set the sofa down in the living room, and watching with one eye as they scrabble madly to catch them (they catch one each and tuck it under their arm and then wrestle for control of the third one). "Are you sure that's a good idea, loves?"

Fitz looks offended. "Why does everyone keep asking that? Have Jemma and I given the impression of being unable to keep things alive? Because you know what we do for a living, right?"

Jemma sighs. "I only dissect things that are _already _dead!"

Bobbi holds her hands up in surrender, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

Mack raises his eyebrows at the two of them in bemusement as he and Ward rejoin the others. "So what did you decide?"

"Well," Jemma replies. "We haven't decided yet. Fitz wants a monkey-"

(Trip, despite being neutral as Switzerland, gives Fitz a fistbump and a smile at this.)

"And Coulson thinks we should get a puppy-"

Ward perks up. "Did you say puppy?"

"And Lance keeps suggesting a cat-"

"Of _course_ he did," Bobbi shakes her head, "His middle name is literally Grumpy Cat."

"That's true," Skye replies with a grin. "I've seen his birth certificate." Bobbi high-fives her.

"Oi!"

Jemma valiantly ignores the interruptions once more and continues. "And May thinks we should get some fish."

"I keep a tank of fish at my mother's place," May says calmly as she walks back into the kitchen, Coulson, still pouting about not being allowed to ask about grandchildren, behind her. "I named them after all of you," she adds fondly.

"Aww. That's quite sweet actually, May," Jemma says with a smile.

"Weird, but nice. Thanks, Mom," Skye says, eyebrows raised.

"Although, the last time I was home, the Lance one was floating bottoms up at the top of the tank."

Lance gives a wounded gasp.

"R.I.P." Ward says sadly. Mack nods and bows his head.

(Lance continues to gape like the aforementioned fish.)

"_My_ fish is the prettiest," Coulson preens.

"Of course it is; it's not _bloody_ dead_,_" Lance grumbles. Bobbi and May fix him with twin warning glares. He dives behind Skye. Unfortunately such a quick movement leaves him unbalanced and instead of landing just behind Skye, he smacks into her. Skye tries to brace herself to catch him, but is unsuccessful. She slides sideways, taking out Fitz as she goes.

Ward and Mack, sensing an impending disaster, both dive bomb to catch their falling friends. At the same time. They knock heads with a rather stupendous crack and Fitz, Skye, and Lance all crash to the floor like so many bowling pins anyway.

Simmons rolls her eyes. "_Honestly_. We're not going to get a pet. I have all of you to take care of. And that's quite enough, thank you. Now, is anyone hurt?"


End file.
